


lost boys

by thisapathy



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Canon Compliant, Carl in lingerie, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut, because why not, brief suicide mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:57:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5301197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisapathy/pseuds/thisapathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pick a number & i'll write. drabbles will be posted here. some au, some canon compliant. all centered around Rick/Carl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prompts

**Author's Note:**

> i've seen this list floating around, thought it'd be fun to try it for myself. :)
> 
> prompts that are crossed out have already been filled, bold prompts are ones that have been requested! ♥

  1. **“Come over here and make me.”**
  2. “Have you lost your damn mind!?”
  3. ~~“Please, don’t leave.”~~
  4. **“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”**
  5. ~~“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”~~
  6. ~~“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”~~
  7. **“I almost lost you.”**
  8. **“Wanna bet?”**
  9. “Don’t you ever do that again!”
  10. **“Teach me how to play?”**
  11. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”
  12. ~~“I think we need to talk.”~~
  13. “Kiss me.”
  14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”
  15. “So, I found this waterfall…”
  16. “It could be worse.”
  17. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”
  18. **“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”**
  19. ~~“The paint’s supposed to go where?”~~
  20. ~~“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”~~
  21. **“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”**
  22. **“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”**
  23. **“Just once.”**
  24. ~~“You’re the only one I trust to do this.”~~
  25. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
  26. “I got you a present.”
  27. ~~“I’m pregnant.”~~
  28. ~~“Marry me?”~~
  29. **“I thought you were dead.”**
  30. “It’s not what it looks like…”
  31. **“You lied to me.”**
  32. **“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”**
  33. **“Please don’t do this.”**
  34. ~~“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”~~
  35. ~~“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”~~
  36. ~~“I wish I could hate you.”~~
  37. “Wanna dance?”
  38. ~~“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”~~
  39. ~~**“** Hey! I was gonna eat that!”~~
  40. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”
  41. ~~“You did all of this for me?”~~
  42. **“I swear it was an accident.”**
  43. **“YOU DID WHAT?!”**
  44. ~~“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”~~
  45. “Tell me a secret.”
  46. **“Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”**
  47. “No one needs to know.”
  48. “Boo.”
  49. “Well this is awkward…”
  50. **Writer’s preference**




	2. #27

prompt #27 filled [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5304206) i got a little carried away so it's a bit longer than a drabble, and fits into an AU series i had going. hope y'all aren't disappointed by either of those thangs. <3 i'll try to post again before the midseason finale on Sunday. 


	3. #24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in 5x12 when Rick goes to get his gun from the blender and Carl shows up
> 
> for LiaSuzanne who requested #24: "You’re the only one I trust to do this.” i hope this fits the bill!

It's been a long time coming since the prison fell, since Carl yelled at his unconscious father in that stranger's house, since Carl narrowly escaped that walker on the second story of a different stranger's house. Carl decided then and there that he didn't want to die without knowing what sex felt like. Given their situation at that point, Rick was the only candidate. After much persuasion on Carl's part, Rick finally agreed that he would be the one.

But things happened, horrible things: Carl almost getting raped, Terminus, the group being hunted, losing Bob, Beth, Noah, Tyreese. But then they found Alexandria, and Rick kept his word.

The shack isn't ideal, but it's private. It works.

Carl shifts on the old mattress, bare back pressed against scratchy sheets. He wishes they could do this back at home, but there are too many eyes, too many chances that someone would walk in on them. He reaches out to put his hands on Rick's shoulders, doesn't think about how this might hurt, doesn't think about how it'll impact their relationship in the future. All he thinks about is how many times they've escaped death and that if he doesn't do it now, he may never get the chance at all.

Rick leans down to capture Carl's mouth in a kiss, threads one hand through Carl's hair, massages his scalp softly. "Are you sure? I don't want you thinkin' you—"

Carl licks his lips and nods. "You’re the only one I trust to do this.”


	4. #5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No apocalypse AU: Rick and Carl have spent Thanksgiving with Carol, Sophia and Daryl. 
> 
> for duneline, who requested prompt #5: "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?" ♥ i hope you like it!

As Rick and Carl are leaving Carol's house, Carl doesn't even want to think about how miserably full he is. He's wearing athletic pants with an elastic waistband on purpose, but they do little to relieve the discomfort of having eaten too much.

Sophia trails behind them holding their almost-gone pie (just pecan, nothing special; Carl whipped it up at the last minute). She hands it to Carl when he climbs in the passenger's seat.

"Tell your mom thanks," Rick tells her.

Carl doesn't hear her reply. He's distracted by Daryl getting on his bike. (He's not interested, but if he wasn't with Rick, he could be.)

Daryl pulls away, is no longer a distraction, and Rick backs out of the driveway and pulls onto the street.

Carl sighs and it's nothing short of contentment. Aside from being miserably full, the only feeling he can describe is joyful. He's basking in the heat of the truck, the companionable silence, the comfort of his hoodie, the smell of the almost-gone pecan pie on his lap. He rests his head against the cold window, reaches over blindly to rest his hand on Rick's thigh.

*

When they get home, Carl drags his feet into the house and sets the leftover pie on the counter on his way to the bedroom.

Rick’s right behind him, oddly silent.

In the bedroom, Rick slips his jeans off before climbing into bed. Before Carl joins him, he bends down to plug the in the Christmas tree that sits in the corner of their bedroom. The room is lit in a soft glow and that makes Carl feel that much cozier. He slides into bed, tries to scoot against Rick's body, nestles in to be the little spoon, but Rick isn't having it. Rick lets him get where he wants, but the absence of Rick's arm around his torso and the absence of Rick's lips on his neck are alarming.

Carl twists, sits up to look down at Rick. "You okay?"

Rick doesn't move and instead, closes his eyes and pretends that he's falling asleep. "You sure you wanna lie with me?"

"What? Of course I—"

"I don't have a motorcycle," Rick grumbles.

Carl's jaw drops. He has absolutely no idea what Rick's taking about. "What?"

" _Daryl_ ," Rick mutters. "Saw you watching him when we left Carol's house."

Carl swears he sees Rick grimace, and can't help but laugh. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

"I saw you watching him," Rick repeats.

"Dad," Carl laughs again. "C'mon. I'm not interested in Daryl. Is that what you think?"

Rick admits as if he's afraid to, "Kinda hard not to."

"No," Carl assures him, still chuckling as he leans down to kiss Rick's mouth. "I love you. Okay? Don't feel threatened." He moves into the little spoon position again, breathes a sigh of relief when Rick's arm drapes over his side. Rick’s hand slips beneath Carl's shirt, rubbing slow circles on his belly. It’s soothing though his stomach is miserably full and slightly distended.

"I guess it's kinda stupid," Rick relents.

"It's stupid," Carl agrees. "You're so much better than him. Like, I bet Daryl doesn't have handcuffs."

Rick leans forward, noses Carl's hair. "Probably not."


	5. #28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No apocalypse AU: Rick and Carl are putting up the Christmas tree. Post Rick/Lori divorce and Carl's, like, 17.
> 
> For Walking_Dead_Is_Life who requested prompt #28: "Marry me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love sad Rick/Carl, I also love stupidly cute, Christmassy Rick/Carl.

Their bellies are full of pizza, courtesy of Rick's wallet and Carl's lack of desire to cook. The tree lights are plugged in at the wall, left there after being tested in favor of fluffing branches. Well, Carl's fluffing branches. Rick is in charge of attaching hooks to the ornaments because he can do that sitting down, and he worked almost 12 hours today.

Normally, this time of year is tense, dull, depressing. The anniversary of Rick and Lori's divorce is nearing. But this year is different because Carl and Rick are together, have been for almost 11 months. It's Carl's favorite time of the year. He isn't going to let the sting of the divorce anniversary ruin their newfound happiness. He doesn't even know what to call it besides happiness.

Carl takes a step back to examine the tree, then looks at Rick, always looks at Rick for advice and guidance. "Does it look okay?"

"Yeah." Rick looks, _sounds_ so tired.

Carl wonders if that's all that's wrong. He brushes his bangs from his eyes, asks softly, "You okay?"

"Fine," Rick assures him. He doesn't sound convincing.

"It's just the anniversary of the divorce is coming up and I just... I know it's probably hard for you," he explains.

Rick cracks a small, sympathetic smile. "I'm fine," he says with enough assurance that Carl doesn't second guess it this time. "I'm happy for the first time in a long time."

There's another part of that sentence that Rick leaves unsaid, and it's because they both know Rick is happy because they're together. Carl's thankful for the somewhat dim lighting. Otherwise, Rick would surely notice and comment on the pink blush on his cheeks. He watches as Rick pushes himself up from the couch like it takes all the strength in his body. He crosses the room, something in his hand, doesn't stop until he's standing right in front of Carl.

"Marry me?"

Carl laughs, knows Rick is joking, obviously knows that can never happen, but the words warm him all over. "Yes," he says with a grin. He watches as Rick takes his left hand and wraps a silver ornament hook around his ring finger. Then Rick pulls their bodies flush together, wraps his arms around Carl's waist.

"You make me happy," he whispers.

Carl hugs him in return, plays with the hair at the nape of Rick's neck, whispers back, "You make me happy, too."


	6. #36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suicide is referenced so it might be kinda triggery? post-Rick/Carl breakup that ties into [come sink into me and let me breathe you in](http://archiveofourown.org/series/344201)
> 
> fills prompt #36: "I wish I could hate you."

Carl sits cross-legged on the bed, elbows on his knees, both hands on the gun, the cold barrel pressed against the center of his forehead. He hears footsteps coming up the stairs down the hall, doesn't bother to move because the door's unlocked, and it's probably just Carol coming to tell him that dinner is ready. But there's no knock. The door swings open.

Maybe it's Rick's experience as a cop, but for some reason, Rick's reaction is calm and quick. "Carl," he says softly, reaching for the gun. "Give it to me."

Carl drops the gun in his lap, causing Rick to jump. "It's not loaded," Carl mutters as if it's any consolation.

"You think that makes it okay for you to hold a _gun_ to your head?" Rick ducks his head in attempt to meet Carl's gaze, but Carl isn't having it. If he looks at Rick, he knows he'll just break. He's not gonna let that happen.

"If I'm gonna die, I wanna be able to decide when and how it happens," he shrugs. He knows his nonchalance about death will get to Rick, push his buttons, and that's exactly what he's trying to do.

Rick's still trying to make eye contact, but Carl's gaze is fixed out the window now. "You wanna die?" Rick asks, and he's still faking calm, but Carl can hear the gentle quaking in his voice.

"Right now, in this moment, yes." If he's being honest (and he is), he wishes he would've died at Hershel's farm, wishes he would've died at the prison, wishes that man on the road would've just slit his throat. Any of those things could've saved Carl so much pain and heartache.

" _Why_? After everything you've been through?"

Carl looks up now, and his eyes tear up immediately, but he's strangely calm. He's tired, tired of all of this, doesn't want to beat around the bush, doesn't want to ignore Rick until Rick comes around to ask what's wrong. All of that is bullshit, and Rick deserves to know how Carl really feels. "Because of what you did to me. We lost everything, everyone—it was just us after the prison. At first I wasn't okay with that, but then I was. It could've just been us forever. I wanted it to be. But then Michonne showed up, and Daryl, and Terminus happened, we found Judith, Alexandria..."

Rick lets out a long sigh. He crosses the room, sits on the edge of Carl's bed cautiously. "Those things were good things, Carl."

A single tear slips down his cheek, and he smiles sadly. "We were a good thing, too."

Rick looks away and nods. At least he's not denying that.

Carl continues, "I've always known how to deal with loss because I had to, but this is different. You're not dead; you're still here. I have to look at you, I have to hear your voice. I can't run away, I can't leave the walls. I can't deal with this. I don't know how. I didn't think it would hurt this much. I just wish you would have let it end the first time you tried. I wish I could hate you," he whispers.

More tears slip from his eyes and Rick looks at him for a long time. He reaches out, strokes Carl's cheek gently, wipes his tears away. Carl shouldn't let him, but he does.

After a long moment, Rick stands up. He takes the empty gun. Carl lets him.

Rick sounds just as upset as Carl, if not more, when he mutters, "I'll have Carol bring your dinner up." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone else going through walker withdrawals already? :| my goal is to have all of these prompts (the requested ones) filled by christmas. :)))


	7. #34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gosh i just love stupidly sweet, non-apocalyptic au rick/carl christmas scenarios. plus, domestic carl is my favorite thing ever. ♥ ~~someone take my laptop away from me~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for gwisoon who requested prompt #34: “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed."

Carl's worked hard decorating the rest of the house for Christmas. He and Rick put the tree up together last night and since it's Saturday, Carl decided that he'd spend the day putting up the other decor. The house is decked out: lighted garland on the mantle, LED candles in the kitchen window, Christmas linens in the kitchen and dining room, mistletoe hanging from the ceiling between the kitchen and living room. Carl made sure there was mistletoe.

It's almost six o'clock, and Rick should be walking through the front door any minute now. Carl's got a casserole in the oven for dinner and the whole house is lit with the soft glow of Christmas lights.

Carl sits and waits in the living room.

Rick's car pulls into the driveway some minutes later, but Rick throws Carl for a loop by coming through the kitchen door instead of the front door.

"Hey," he calls.

Carl frowns, rushes to the kitchen, but Rick has already walked out from under the mistletoe. "Stop!"

"What?" Rick asks, confused.

Carl approaches him, puts his hands on Rick's shoulders and guides him backwards.

"Carl, what the hell?"

"You missed it," Carl says, positioning them under the mistletoe that hangs between the living room and kitchen. He motions up, and Rick looks, and now Carl's grinning. "You gotta kiss me."

"Oh," Rick chuckles. "I  _have_  to?"

Carl shrugs. "It's tradition."

Rick kisses him softly at first, cradles Carl's face in his hands, but Carl has different intentions. He opens his mouth, cups Rick's cock through those awful uniform pants. Rick's quick to respond, pushing Carl backwards until he's pressed against the edge of the kitchen counter.

"That's what this is about?" Rick asks, half-laughing, voice low, blue eyes intense even in the dim kitchen lighting.

Carl just shrugs, looks up at Rick through his eyelashes. "Sorry," he replies innocently, though his intentions are anything but innocent.

“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed. Then again," he starts, reaching down to unzip and unbutton Carl's jeans, "who's to say I can't fuck you right here?"

The sheer rugged, filthy tone of Rick's voice makes Carl weak at the knees. He glances at the oven timer, then looks back at Rick with pink cheeks and parted lips. "You have twenty-two minutes." 


	8. #41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more Christmastime Rick/Carl ~~oops~~. fills prompt #41: "You did all of this for me?"

It takes Carl hours to stage everything. Dinner isn't a big deal; he makes homemade chicken parmigiana and fettuccine Alfredo. The hard part is shaving his legs and blow drying and then straightening his hair. He contemplates mascara, settles on a soft pink lip gloss instead. He pulls on the [red lingerie](https://www.victoriassecret.com/lingerie/babydolls-and-slips/pleated-babydoll-very-sexy?ProductID=229715&CatalogueType=OLS) with slightly shaky hands. He feels silly at first, but when he pulls the lace panties up on his hips, he remembers why he thought this would be a good idea. He looks in the mirror and he's turned on. He's sure Rick is going to enjoy every bit of this.

He sits on the edge of the bed, twinkle lights hanging above him, butt plug nestled comfortably, pleasurably inside his ass. When he hears the front door open, he second guesses everything. He doesn't even know if Rick is into this sort of thing.

Rick interrupts his thoughts, calling, "Carl?"

Carl lets out a shaky breath and stands up. "In here!" He's all straight hair and long legs and bright eyes when Rick walks in.

"Hey, dinner smells— _Jesus_ , Carl."

Carl's heart is pounding in his chest as he smooths the chiffon over his ribs. "Do you like it?"

Rick is speechless, reaches over to drop his keys on top of the dresser. The expression on his face asks why, but his mouth doesn't form the words.

"It's a year ago today that we first kissed, um..." He doesn't want to be overly sentimental, but technically December 27th is their anniversary. That was his logic, anyway. "So I made dinner. And I bought this," he says, gesturing to the red babydoll.

Rick's face breaks into a smile. Not just a smile, a fucking grin. "You did all of this for me?" Rick coos. Rick's cooing, and Rick never coos. Ever.

Carl nods, bites his gloss-slick lip just a little. He twists his fingers in the chiffon and, honestly, some of this is just for show, but the way Rick is looking at him does make him a little nervous. He reaches under the babydoll, pulls the panties down and kicks them to the side. "Do you like it?"

Rick unbuttons his uniform shirt, shedding it quickly along with the undershirt. Carl watches in anticipation as Rick quickly steps out of his pants and takes long strides across the room. He takes Carl's face in both hands and kisses him. Carl's pulse pounds in his ears and he lets Rick climb on top of him, lets Rick fuck up his lip gloss with messy kisses.

Rick rolls them over and Carl grips Rick's shoulders as he does, sits up now that he's on top. He drags his hands down Rick's chest to his belly, reaches for Rick's hand and guides it to his ass. Rick's finger slides between his cheeks, he pauses when he feels the base of the plug. "Carl," he groans. Rick pulls the plug out gently, tosses it on the bed, puts three fingers in its place. " _Carl_."

Carl whines and his hair falls in his face. The strap to his babydoll slips from his shoulder and Rick loses it. He pulls his fingers out, grabs the base of his cock and pushes in without much warning. Carl feels like he's had the breath punched out of him in the best way. He's panting, he's hard, but Rick is making this all about himself right now. He grips Carl's hips, fucks him with no abandon, pulls Carl down to kiss him rough and sloppy.

Rick comes inside of him seconds later and _no, no, no,_ that isn't how this was supposed to go. When Rick's hips still, Carl sits up, pushes himself off and away. He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. All of these preparations for a quick fuck, and he didn't even get to come.

"What's wrong?" Rick asks, still panting.

Carl just stares at him, hurt and upset, feels so stupid for wearing what he's wearing now. "You didn't make me come," he responds. He does his best to make his voice even. He doesn't want this to blow out of proportion, doesn't want to end up crying when they should be happy. He doesn't want to do the passive-aggressive bullshit that other couples do. "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

Rick sits up on the edge of the bed, reaches out. "Come here."

Carl steps closer, lets himself be pulled into Rick's arms, rests his head on Rick's shoulder as Rick smooths the chiffon over his back.

Rick kisses his cheek, whispers in his ear, "You think I'm done with you?"

"I don't know," Carl answers honestly. "Sometimes you can't get it up twice in a night."

Rick laughs against his cheek and then Carl's laughing, too. "I don't think that's gonna be a problem tonight. So, let's go eat and then we'll have round two."

+

Hours later, literally _hours_ , Carl has come 3 times and he's showered and tucked into bed as he waits for Rick to finish whatever he's doing in the kitchen. He rests his head on his pillow and he’s drifting to sleep when Rick comes in.

"I got you somethin'," Rick says.

Carl rolls over, slowly sits up and Rick hands him a small, somewhat weighty box wrapped in thick red paper. "What is it?" he asks dumbly.

"Open it."

Carl smiles up at him, carefully unwraps the box to find a rose gold iPhone 6s Plus. He can't even say the words, throws himself into Rick's arms, box still in hand, buries his face in the crook of Rick's neck.

Rick kisses his ear, holds him tight. "You thought I forgot?"

Carl shakes his head. "I don't... we never talked about it." He pulls away, sets the phone on the nightstand.

Rick watches him in awe. "You must be tired," he remarks, because any other time Carl would be out of bed and updating to the newest software and restoring backup from his old phone and adding music.

Carl laughs as his head hits the pillow. "You wore me out."

Rick settles in behind him, drapes an arm over his hip, and Carl's asleep within minutes.


	9. #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more rick/carl breakup angst because why not. ties into [come sink into me and let me breathe you in](http://archiveofourown.org/series/344201)
> 
> prompt #3: "Please, don't leave."

When Rick walks in on Carl stuffing clothes into his backpack, he's confused and concerned. "Carl?"

Carl turns to look at him, face hard and cold. The only other time Rick's ever seen him like that was after Lori died. "What?"

"You goin' somewhere?"

"I'm moving to the other house," he says decidedly, zipping the backpack and slinging it over one shoulder.

"Just out of the blue? You gonna tell 'em why you suddenly can't stand to be around me?"

"Daryl already fucking knows!" Carl says, throwing his hands up.

That's definitely a topic for another fight. "What about Judith?"

"I'm not her mother!" Carl snaps. "I could be, but you don't want that. Not anymore."

"I do want that," Rick mutters. Though, at this point he's not sure anything can persuade Carl to stay. "She— _we_ need you here."

"You don't need anything from me," Carl spits. "Jesse can be her fucking mom." And that's it, that's the last straw. Rick grabs his wrist, holds it impossibly tight. Carl can't make it budge though he tries.

"Listen to me," he growls. "You think it's easy doin' all this? Tryin' to make sense of what's goin' on when I don't wanna focus on anything but you? You've told me a hell of a lot about how you feel, now let me tell you: I feel like a sick son of a bitch knowing how much I've hurt you. You tellin' me over and over doesn't do anything but twist that knife deeper. You think I wanna listen to you cry yourself to sleep nearly every goddamn night because of me? I love you, Carl, and I want you and I want to be with you but we can't. We just _can't_ anymore. It's killing me that you can't understand that. You wanna leave? Be my guest. Just know that I don't want you to."

Rick releases his wrist and watches Carl wipe his eyes.

"You think I hate you and I don't," Rick mutters, running a hand through his hair. "It's the exact opposite. _Please_. Please, don't leave."

Carl hesitates, looks at Rick with sad eyes, but ultimately drops the backpack on the floor, whispers, "I'll stay."


	10. #12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last tidbit to [darling, let me be broken with you](http://archiveofourown.org/series/343333) because lbr, everyone deserved a happy ending in this. this one takes place a few weeks after part 3. :')
> 
> fills prompt #12: "I think we need to talk."

Carl's sitting in bed, Asher in his arms. No matter how many times he stares down into that tiny face, he can't believe how far they've come. Alexandria, The Hilltop, The Kingdom—all of it. Because of everything, Carl can have this. Because of Rick's sacrifices, he can have this. It makes him want to cry, but in the best way imaginable.

It's getting late and Carl is tired. He stands up, puts Asher in the bassinet beside the bed and stretches out. Down the hall he can hear Rick tucking Judith in for the night, and then he hears footsteps and the squeak of the bedroom door opening.

"You asleep?"

"Not yet," Carl whispers.

Rick takes his jeans off, lays his gun on the nightstand and settles down behind Carl. He spoons him, arm draped over Carl's hip and chin resting in the crook of his neck.

Carl turns around in Rick's arms and he's smiling, but it's faint and soft and sleepy. "I love you."

Rick smiles back, kisses his mouth gently. "I love you too."

"I appreciate everything you do. All the sacrifices you've made for me, for Judy. Raising her like she's your own."

"I could tell you the same," Rick counters. He moves, resting their foreheads together lightly. "How's Asher?"

"He's good." Carl pauses thoughtfully. "He looks like you more than he does me."

"That's a shame," Rick laughs. His voice takes a more serious tone when he says, "I think we need to talk."

Carl says slowly, "Okay."

"I'll talk, you listen. I've just... With the baby, I've been thinkin' a lot lately about you. Us. Everything we've been through. About..." Rick visibly struggles, thinking of the right way to put it. "About the first baby. You were so young—"

"That was a long time ago," Carl whispers. It really wasn't; it was only 6 years. It feels like a lifetime, though.

"I know. Doesn't change anything; I still feel awful. I should've handled it differently. I should've given you time to think about it. I'm so sorry."

Truth is, since Asher was born Carl's been thinking about the first baby, too. He didn't dare bring it up, didn't want to make Rick think he still held it against him because he doesn't. "I understand now why you did it. I'm thankful. I'm grateful. If you hadn't made me—the world was gonna end no matter what. We were always on the run back then. I could've died, that baby could've died. You could've lost both of us. It was the best thing for everyone at the time whether we realized it or not."

"Even as it is now we just... we almost weren't. Because of me," Rick says, voice straining. "Judith, you, this new baby—that's everything to me now. I'm not leaving anymore. There's enough people willing to go out there that I don't have to anymore. I wanna be here with you and the baby, with Judith."

Carl reaches up, cups Rick's cheek gently and kisses him. "Thank you for that. For everything."


	11. #39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fills prompt #39: "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

As it is, Carl's not too happy with Rick. They had a fight before bed last night about Carl not doing enough around the house because he's studying for finals next week, thank you very much. Though Carl vowed never to go to bed angry, he did. He woke up angry, didn't even want to talk to Rick before he left to school. He ignored Rick's apology texts until Rick finally called him during lunch. As soon as Rick dropped the 'I'm sorry, baby', Carl relented and gave Rick the chance to talk.

Rick promised he was sorry, said he wanted to make it up to Carl by taking him out to dinner. Carl agreed, but Rick called him a few hours later and left a voicemail saying he would be working late, and he was sorry.

So now it's past ten and Carl's curled up asleep on the sofa in the living room when Rick walks in.

"Carl," Rick says softly. When he doesn't get a response, he shakes his shoulder gently. "Hey, I'm home."

Carl opens his eyes, sitting up slowly. "Finally," he mutters bitterly.

"I know. Listen, I'm sorry," he begins. "About startin' that fight last night. I know you've been bogged down with school work."

Carl's usually not so easy to forgive, but Rick sounds sincere and tired. He smiles sleepily. "I forgive you."

Rick leans down, kissing him softly. "You eat yet?"

"Nope."

"Let me get changed and we'll go get somethin'."

Carl hums in agreement and searches for his phone in the couch cushions. When he finds it, he stuffs it in his hoodie pocket and goes to find his house shoes. He doesn't bother changing clothes; he's comfortable in sweats and his hoodie, and Rick can get over it if he's embarrassed by him wearing house shoes.

He meets Rick back in the living room and Rick puts a hand on his shoulder as he leads him out to the truck.

"What’re you in the mood for?" Rick asks as they climb in.

"I don't know," Carl says. He yawns as he buckles his seat belt. He wants to test Rick to see if he's _really_ sorry, so: "Dunkin' Donuts."

Rick hesitates, lets out a quiet sigh. "I could use coffee," he admits.

+

They drive the 4 miles to the 24 hour Dunkin’ and Carl waits for Rick to get out before they go in.

"What are we getting?" he asks, glancing back at Rick.

"Coffee and whatever you want."

As Carl leans against the counter, Rick presses against his back, arms around Carl's waist. It's risky as fuck, but Carl doesn't pull away, just lets Rick hold him as he picks out the different donuts he wants.

Rick pays, Carl takes their coffee and Rick grabs the box of donuts before heading back to the truck. Once there, Carl holds his coffee in his lap and sets Rick's in the cup holder. "Where're we going?"

"Wanna drive around?"

"Sure," Carl shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. He reaches to turn on the radio, soft and pleasant in the background of their companionable silence.

+

They drive for a while downtown where all of the corporate buildings are decorated with lights on trees outside and Christmas trees in lobbies that are visible from the street. Eventually Carl scoots over to the middle of the bench seat and leans against Rick's shoulder, box of donuts in his lap.

After downtown, they head into the ritzy neighborhoods. The coffee perks them up a little, enough that Carl doesn't want to lean against his father's shoulder and instead, sits straight up as they look at the Christmas lights.

They pull into a park beside a man made lake. Carl considers initiating car sex but ultimately decides against it; the possibility of them getting caught sitting in a parking lot is too real. Instead, he glances over and watches in horror as Rick takes the chocolate frosted donut and eats half of it in one bite. "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

"Sorry," Rick says through a mouthful.

"Was that the only chocolate one?" Carl asks, sorting through the box. He comes up empty handed and sits back in his seat, hands in his lap.

"You should've said something," Rick says softly, offering Carl the uneaten half. "I didn't know you wanted it."

Carl takes the half-a-donut gratefully, leaning over to kiss Rick on the mouth.


	12. #35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm super lame and i'm not going to have these done by christmas because i've had a bad week and a half, but here's #35: "You heard me. Take. It. Off." 
> 
> \+ no zpoc au  
> ++ rick/carl are actually gonna fuck for the first time ever

They've made it farther than they ever have; Carl's on his back and his shirt is on the floor and Rick's mouth is on his neck and he pushes Rick back just a little, hands sliding down Rick's belly to the buckle on his jeans. He undoes it with ease, pausing with red cheeks and spit-slick lips. "Take off your wedding ring," he mutters.

Rick looks at him dumbly. "What?"

"You heard me. Take. It. Off."

Rick looks down at his left hand and sits back, flexing his fingers. "I don't—"

"Take it off. I don't want you to wear it anymore if you're gonna fuck me."

"Carl—"

"No," Carl snarls. The thought of fucking Rick and Rick still wearing his wedding ring doesn’t only make him uncomfortable, but he feels shitty that Rick doesn’t love him enough to respect his wishes. He stands up, reaching for his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. "It's been 6 months. Mom isn't coming back."

"I know that," Rick snaps. His voice is different, and Carl's never really heard him sound like that. He'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt for Rick to speak to him that way.

Carl turns to leave but he hears the squeak of the mattress springs and then Rick grabs his hand.

"You're right. I'm just conflicted," Rick admits with a deep sigh. "Ain't supposed to be like this. Not supposed to want what I want for us. It's been hard. I don't want her to come back. I want this." Rick gestures between them. "I want you." Rick makes the dramatic gesture of pulling his wedding band off and tossing it down the hallway, and Carl makes the dramatic gesture of dragging Rick back to the bed.


	13. #19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #19: "The paint's supposed to go where?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ established rick/carl

After the divorce, Rick decided a move for them would be for the best. New town, new house. Lori would have to actually make an effort if she wanted to come see Carl. So far she hasn't.

Their new house isn't anything special, just a craftsman style and they're renting, not buying. Thankfully, the landlord gave them free reign to paint whatever they wanted. The living room and kitchen are already coated in a neutral beige, and now they're painting the master bedroom. They're going with a dusty navy at Carl's discretion. He insists that it'll be romantic when all is said and done. Currently, though, they're in paint clothes and Carl emits a stifled "damn it" and a heavy sigh.

When Rick turns to look at him, Carl has a large spot of blue paint on his cheek. "The paint's supposed to go where?" Rick asks, stifling a laugh.

"Shut up," Carl whines playfully. He looks at the paintbrush in his hand skeptically, glances back at Rick and flicks the brush at him.

Rick's not even mad, he's just laughing, blue speckles of paint covering his face and old t-shirt. He dips his thumb in the paint-soaked roller and lunges out, swiping it across Carl's forehead. And then Carl's laughing and Rick's dropping his paint roller and pulling Carl into his arms, kissing him slow and deep.


	14. #6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #6: "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna make this kinda fluffy but then it turned filthy ~~oops~~

When Rick comes home from working Christmas Eve, he's utterly exhausted. He sets the pizza box down on the counter (dinner; thanks, Domino's) along with his keys. The lights around the house are on, but it's eerily quiet.

"Carl? Hey, I'm home!"

Honestly, Rick is hoping Carl is just asleep and not over at a friend's house. After the day Rick has had, he just wants to take a shower and curl up with Carl on the couch. 

When Rick doesn't get any response, he walks to the back of the house towards their bedrooms. He hears a faint buzzing sound and his jaw drops when he turns on the light on his bedroom. Carl's there on his back, legs spread, doing— _is that a vibrator?_ Rick clears his throat, cock already stirring with arousal. 

Carl sits up, slides the vibrator out of his ass and lifts it to his mouth, sucking at it lightly. "Merry Christmas, Daddy."

Rick scrubs a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

Carl beckons him closer, twisting the base of the vibrator until it turns off. He lays it beside him on the bed, bringing a hand between his thighs and slipping his fingers inside himself. "Isn't it obvious?"

_Fuck_ , this kid. Rick's cock is hard in his boxers. He unbuckles his belt, takes his pants and underwear off. Rick walks to the edge of the bed where Carl is now sitting up, lube in hand. 

"Not exactly what I had planned," Rick admits, gasping as Carl's fingers wrap around him and slick his cock. "I wanted to watch a movie."

"We'll be fast," Carl tells him. He wipes he excess lube on the bed and lays back, legs open. "You're not gonna last long. I'm all ready for you." 

Rick doesn't have to be told twice. He grips Carl's hips, positions his cock and pushes in with one smooth thrust. It feels amazing, warm and slick and tight, and Carl whimpers with every movement. It's good, deep dick fucking.

Carl wraps his hand around himself and starts pumping, and the moment he reaches for the vibrator and starts sucking on it, Rick loses it. He comes with a guttural moan, not even two minutes, leaning down to kiss Carl with teeth and tongue. He's breathing heavy and when he pulls back, he finds Carl's belly covered in come. 

Carl smiles, sleepy and satisfied, cock still in his hand. "Told you you wouldn't last long."


	15. #20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fills #20: "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

Carl knows Rick can take care of himself, but that doesn't mean he wants Rick going outside the gates risking his life for these people that don't even like him. It's stupid and reckless and Carl hates it.

"Dad." Rick pauses and turns around with his hand on the doorknob. "Don't go," Carl pleads softly. He adjusts Judith on his hip, offering her a finger to grasp onto. "Please, I don't want you to."

"I have to."

"No, you don't. There are other people willing to go out there. You don't have to do anything."

"These people don't know what they're doin'. They'll die if I don't do this."

Carl lets out a shaky breath, resting his cheek against Judith's head. "What about us? You're choosing them over us."

"I'll be back, always am." Rick sighs, running a hand over his hair. "I gotta go."

Carl stands there with teary eyes and watches as Rick walks out the front door.

+

Carl tries his hardest to be what Rick needs. He takes care of Judy—hell, he's basically Judy's mother at this point. He sticks around and helps Carol cook and keep the house in order and at night he'll curl up with Rick, and Rick doesn't seem to appreciate any of it.

Carl spends the remainder of the day in the house with Judith. He tries not to think about Rick and how Rick completely discounted his wishes. He now realizes why Lori was so upset when Rick kept leaving on runs when he didn't have to. It's the same thing all over again and it's foolish and risky and stupid. Carl has to wonder if Rick really loves them as much as he says he does.

+

Word comes around that the group returned unscathed for the most part. When Michonne comes in to deliver the news, Carl is playing with Judith on the floor in the living room.

"We're back," she says, leaning against the wall. "But there's a problem."

Carl's face falls and the block he's holding in his hand slips from his grip. "What?"

"Your dad slipped, took a fall. He hit his head pretty hard. He's in the infirmary with—"

"Is he awake?"

Michonne's lips form a thin line and she shakes her head dismally. "Denise patched him up. If you wanna go see him, I'll watch Judith."

Carl stands up and picks Judith up, setting her on his hip. "No, s'okay. I'll take her."

+

The room is dark and quiet. Denise gets Carl a chair from another room and he sits down beside Rick's bed, Judith in his lap. He reaches out to take Rick's limp hand. "This is why I didn't want you to go," he says, voice trembling. "I need you. I can't raise Judith alone." He lets a few tears slip from his eyes and sniffles, kissing the back of Rick's hand softly. "You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

+

He sits beside Rick long after the sun goes down. Carol comes looking for him and he insists that he'll stay with Rick overnight, but he lets her take Judith who's asleep in his arms. As Carol closes the door, Carl puts a hand to Rick's cheek and says a silent prayer. He's never really prayed before, never saw the reason to because bad things will happen no matter what. He doesn't know if he believes in heaven and doesn't know if praying will help, but it eases his mind for the moment. It's then that he realizes how exhausted he is. He pulls his chair as close to Rick's bed as he can, leaning over to rest his head on Rick's chest. He falls asleep to the sound of Rick's even breathing.

+

Carl wakes to the feeling of someone running their fingers through his hair. He opens his eyes, head still on Rick's chest, and turns around, figuring it's Michonne standing behind him.

"Hey," Rick whispers hoarsely.

Carl's head whips around and he ignores the painful crick in his neck he has from sleeping like that. "Dad. Oh my god." Carl all but throws himself on top of Rick, arms hugging him tightly. Carl can't help but get a little weepy, sniffling against Rick's shirt.

"Hey, hey." Rick strains to lean up and kiss Carl's head, rubbing his arm gently. "I'm fine."

"This is why I didn't want you to go," Carl whines. Yes, he's whining. "I can't raise Judy by myself. You have to—"

"I know," Rick cuts in. "No more. I'm not leaving again. I can't risk losing you or your sister."

Carl calms down just a bit and sits back in his chair, but not before Rick presses a chaste kiss to his lips. He smiles, hands in his lap. "Do I even wanna know what happened out there?"

"No," Rick shakes his head. "Probably not."

 


	16. #38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #38: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in 5x10 & fits into [this series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/344201)

It's been two weeks since Atlanta. The group is at their weakest they've probably ever been. They haven't eaten hardly anything aside from stale peanuts and whatever wild plans Eugene can identify as safe to eat. Their water's almost out, and there's none in sight. They've been looking for hours. They're sweaty and moving slow and Carl's stomach is cramping badly and his hands are shaking. He falls to the back of the group with Maggie, Gabriel, Sasha and Michonne for a while until Rick asks him to hold Judith. He doesn't think he can, but he takes her anyway.

He has to force himself to move, keeps telling himself to put one foot in front of the other and just _go_. But Judith gets too heavy and Carl has to give her to Michonne.

"Can we stop?" Carl asks quietly. When he looks at Rick, the world seems to spin, and then it fades to black.

+

Carl opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is the sky, bright blue and speckled with white fluffy clouds, and then Rick's face peers down into his. He feels Rick's rough, dirty hand settle against his cheek.

"What happened?" Carl asks, voice raspy.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Carl gives Rick a small smile before slowly sitting up. He turns around to face Rick and of course they're being careful, but that doesn't stop Rick from brushing Carl's bangs from his face.

"You okay?"

"I'm really hungry," Carl admits. He's tired of lying, tired of not telling Rick what he needs when he needs it.

"Probably why you passed out." Rick digs in the front pocket of the backpack sitting next to him, producing a handful of pecans. "From my personal stash," he says, putting them in Carl's palm. "I know it's not much. Others are out lookin' again, I said I'd stay behind with you. Daryl's keepin' watch; he's not far."

Carl hums, moving to lean against Rick's shoulder. As he cracks the pecans open and chews on them, he feels so defeated. "Dad, I'm scared," he whispers. It's not easy for Carl to be honest, to let Rick think that he's doing okay physically and mentally when he's not. It's even harder now than it was before the prison fell. "We're gonna die."

Rick wraps an arm around Carl's shoulders, kissing the top of his head. "Nah. We'll be fine. We always are."


	17. #44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #44: "If you die, I'm gonna kill you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> au: established rick/carl where they're on their own in the zpoc  
> \+ testing out 1st person and tbh idk how to feel about it. let me know!

Shit, shit, _shit_. I'm surrounded, and of course Rick's inside the house. The only reason I agreed to stay outside and stand watch in the first place is because shit like this never happens. Usually I just stand here, gun limp in my grip. And, okay, maybe I was too busy daydreaming about how pretty Rick's blue eyes are to notice the small group of walkers that come seemingly from no where.

Yelling for Rick will only make things worse. Instead, I take care of it on my own (like I _always_ do). One, two, three. But of course, of-fucking-course I'm out of ammo now. I don't have time for this shit. Honestly. Not when Rick and I could be inside fucking.

I toss my gun to the ground; I'll get it later. I'm pretty sure I hear Rick calling for me inside but I'm a little preoccupied right now, Dad, thanks. I'm too busy pulling my knife and driving it through the remaining rotten skulls around me to holler back.

When the last rotten body drops, I sigh heavily, barely winded. All this cardio really does wonders.

Rick jogs up to me, a bewildered expression on his dumb, pretty face. "What the hell happened?"

I shrug, gesturing vaguely. What happened is what always fucking happens, Dad. "Walkers everywhere."

"Point of you keeping watch is that you watch." Rick stoops down to pick up my gun, holstering it for me. "Jesus, Carl."

I wanna make some stupid comment about whether I'm Jesus or Carl, but Rick shuts me up before I get a chance. He kisses me, needy and desperate. His hands are in my hair and on my hips and maybe I should get myself into trouble more often. I settle my hands on Rick's belt buckle, undoing it with ease. But then Rick pulls away too soon, leaving me pouty-faced and annoyed. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

"Yeah," I hum. He makes that threat all the time. "I know."

"Good news, though," Rick says then, grinning at me. "House is empty. C'mon." He takes me by the hand, nearly dragging me inside.

 


End file.
